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“Huh?..”
Tecchou frowns, trying to understand where the sound came from and what it was. The ruins of the airport surround him as he walks through the destroyed territory, facing nothing more but dead bodies of civilians. Blood sticks to his clothes, a constant reminder of the lost fight and dignity. Kenji is nowhere to be found now that Tecchou has helped him to get to his friends. This young boy’s determination to save them reminds Tecchou of himself when he was around that age too. He can’t even count how many comrades and classmates he has lost in that war, yet it takes no effort to recall his futile attempts to protect them from something inevitable.
Right now, Tecchou is practically the same: looking around for his comrade after abandoning the mission. Each step forward brings more memories. He remembers getting scolded for acting like this when he was a child. His superior was a strict man with a strong will, who didn’t approve of any disobedience. Even when Tecchou just learned to count to one thousand, he already knew that punishment for not following the orders would come. However, he was still grateful for the opportunity to fight under his command. ‘He would probably be really disappointed right now. Even after all this time, I still can’t choose between my mind and my heart,’ Tecchou thinks, as he turns around the corner, exploring yet more ruins.
When the noise repeats, Tecchou frowns. He freezes in place and even holds his breath to hear better—a habit drilled into him against his own will. Wind is blowing, birds are chirping in distress, dust is flying around. He stares at the ground in front of him, focusing solely on the sounds. The noise is faint, barely noticeable, but Tecchou can’t just brush it off: he doesn’t feel like it’s the right thing to do. He takes a few more steps forward, moving almost silently. And then he hears it—a conversation. A conversation about the current situation, Fyodor, One Order. His frown deepens, amber eyes snapping in the direction of the voices. Tecchou grips his sword as he moves with new confidence towards the source of the sound.
Stones and debris crunch under his feet along with dry leaves. At one point, Tecchou finds himself almost running. A nagging feeling in his chest doesn’t allow him to stop. Maybe it’s hope, maybe it’s naivety. Or perhaps the care he still holds in his scarred heart.
Voices become louder, and now Tecchou is sure that he has heard the conversation right: it’s surely not the Decay of Angels. He doubts they would discuss a plan to kill Dostoyevsky. ‘Detective Agency…?’ He wonders, getting closer. The sky above is covered with grey clouds, the sun nowever to be seen. Some yellow and orange shades tell him that sunset is near. How much time has it passed anyway? Tecchou didn’t have an opportunity to think much about it: first, Jouno’s disappearance, then fighting with that child, lying unconscious on the ground, and then spending endless minutes—or even hours—searching to find his partner.
Does the time matter now, though? Tecchou may be a few steps away from finally letting himself let out a long breath and relaxing his shoulders. Voices grow clearer, and now he can distinguish some words and phrases. Tecchou speeds up a little but freezes the second he hears an all too familiar sound of a sword scraping against the ground.
“As long as we have…” Tecchou nearly sprints now. He doubts he’s ever been so certain of anything. War has taught him to be careful and attentive, to pay attention to everything, to never trust anything but sounds and smells.
His eyes widen when he sees it. The Armed Detective Agency. Tecchou frowns only for a second, almost stopping dead in his tracks, confused. “This can’t be right…” he mutters under his breath. The sound of a sword hitting the ground was definitely something he had heard before. Hell, he hears it everyday.
He watches the detectives from a distance, calculating. Something doesn't feel right: this cannot be this peaceful.
“Ranpo-san—”
Tecchou almost stumbles over his own feet. He rushes forward, amber eyes fixed on the painfully familiar figure. For the first time in a long time he’s actually grateful to the enhancements the Hunting Dogs have: had he been an ordinary person, it would've taken him more than just a few seconds to appear behind the greatest detective’s back.
A sharp pain pierces his body when the sword slices his arm. He clenches his jaw, holding back a grunt and the urge to shut his eyes. But Tecchou keeps them open, as he finally looks up from his arm that will definitely have a new permanent scar now.
“Jouno,” his voice is strained with pain, but he keeps it steady and low—just as it needs to be when talking to him. The amber eyes finally show the reflection of light, even though the sky is still completely clouded, “I finally have you.” The words come out barely above a murmur, his eyes softening. The pain in his arm is temporarily forgotten, while the blood keeps running down his skin, dripping onto the ground. The sound of the blade slashing his muscles still rings in his ears. Ranpo, next to him, is frozen in surprise, completely not expecting to be attacked by a Hunting Dog and saved by another one. Jouno, on the other hand, doesn’t look right. His inherent elegance and grace evaporated under the influence of the One Order, making him look hostile, almost feral in a way.
Tecchou frowns, when the man doesn’t react to his words, his breathing, or his heartbeat. But before he can comprehend anything, he already has to dodge another attack, which is aimed directly at him this time. Jouno’s habit of carrying knives with him gives him an advantage just for a second as he lunges forward, trying to slice either his throat or his chest.
Though, to Jouno’s misfortune, Tecchou is the strongest. He grits his teeth and throws his partner away, making him kneel under the strength of the punches. Tecchou doesn’t care about the pain, clenching his hands. ‘If that’s what it takes…’ He thinks, aiming his fist in the other’s jaw, making Jouno throw his head back and grunt in pain.
“I can’t hear you!” Tecchou exclaims, loud enough to annoy Jouno’s senses—not screaming, but definitely affecting the enhanced hearing. “Don’t kneel to One Order Jouno! You’re better than that!” He doesn’t know if the words will help Jouno snap out of it, but he still tries, his determined gaze fixed on the blood on the other’s face. Tecchou doesn’t remember when they last fought like this. Usually, they bicker, annoy the hell out of each other, maybe throw a couple of punches. But beating the absolute shit out of the other? That might even be a first.
“Where is your noble soul? Your courage!?” Tecchou continues, watching Jouno spit out blood. He hears his fingers crack when he clenches them into a fist once more. “Show it to me!” He almost growls, knocking Jouno off his feet with a blow that was too strong to his already injured jaw. Tecchou’s panting, eyes burning with intensity, as he’s waiting for his partner to come back to him.
Jouno grunts, his breathing labours from the relentless attacks, as he mutters something under his breath, catching the other’s affection. Just when Tecchou is about to lunge forward once again, his head is forced to snap to the side by a powerful force of Jouno’s fist. “That really hurt, you nitwit!!” Jouno yells and doesn’t give Tecchou even a second to recover, pushing himself off the ground and kicking his partner in the stomach.
Tecchou manages to cover his face and land on both legs, avoiding falling backwards, but the next moment he’s yanked forward by a grip on his collar. “Tecchou, you damn boar! I’ll chop you up and make you into a pork hot pot!” Jouno doesn’t care about other heartbeats and breathing near them, as he spits the threats in Tecchou’s face, barely holding himself back from throwing another punch.
Tecchou finds himself grinning. His eyes light up with excitement and relief. God. He has missed him.
“That’s it, Jouno! Good!” Tecchou encourages Jouno, eyes never leaving his face despite the pure irritation visible in the elegant features. “Let’s have fun talking it out!” he taunts, not ready to pull away just yet.
Jouno is back and he is the same as always. Tecchou couldn’t ask for more even if sometimes he wished Jouno lost some of his attitude.
They don’t notice how the greatest detective quickly retreats, leaving them alone, while muttering something about staying far away from the Hunting Dogs. Jouno’s pissed, and Tecchou enjoys it—or his comeback—a bit too much. One punch follows another, their capes and hats lie forgotten on the ground somewhere among the ruins. Jouno doesn’t let up, gripping Tecchou’s clothes with one hand, while trying to break his nose. “You asshole,” he growls, dodging a follow-up attack. “You really can’t do anything but fight! Where’s your favoured justice in splitting my lip, idiot!” Tecchou can’t help but chuckle in response.
‘Fierce as ever,’ he thinks, lunging forward. His foot meets Jouno’s chest, knocking him off the ground. Jouno almost gasps, but holds himself back as he falls down on his back, hitting his head. “You—”
Tecchou interrupts him, towering over him. One elbow comes to rest on his bent knee, bringing him closer. “Easy, tiger,” he teases, watching Jouno with an unmistakable glint of amusement in his eyes.
Maybe, his futile attempts to save his comrades from the past weren’t for nothing, after all. Can he call them a practice now that he managed to find his partner and even snap him out of the brainwashing? Tecchou thinks he can.
Jouno huffs, turning his head away. His breathing is heavy, as he’s lying on the ground. His sword is tossed somewhere, forgotten completely, while his knuckles are slightly bloody from fighting. Jouno doesn’t say anything else, almost pouting at being defeated, while Tecchou watches him with a softened gaze. He finally steps away and holds his hand out for Jouno.
“I don’t need your help, you prick,” he mutters, but takes his hand nevertheless, standing up. Jouno quickly begins to brush the dust off his rumpled uniform, trying to tidy himself up a bit, while Tecchou stands next to him with his arms crossed over his chest, watching him with a barely perceptible smile. “What?” Jouno hisses, sensing his gaze on him. His own features are tinged with irritation, but his voice sounds less hostile now.
Tecchou shrugs. “Nothing. Glad you’re back,” he answers honestly, making Jouno almost roll his eyes.
“Of course, I’m back. And I would have been back without you beating me up!” He argues, folding his arms. Jouno looks like a mess, and Tecchou can’t help but chuckle softly. He carefully pats his shoulder before reaching out to the side to pick up Jouno’s sword. “Yeah, missed you too,” he murmurs, handing him the weapon.
Jouno scoffs, taking the sword back and adjusting it on his hip. “You’re lucky I find others more irritating than you. Or you’d be dead by now.” The words don’t sound as harsh as they’re supposed to, because Tecchou catches the slightest softness in his tone.
The amber eyes follow Jouno’s every move as he navigates through the ruins, while explaining the situation to Tecchou: about the Captain, the vampires, the Decay of Angel. And Tecchou thinks that losing Jouno feels worse than being betrayed by Fukuchi.
Maybe he’s naive and doesn’t understand something. Or perhaps he just cares more than a soldier should.